


Bad Things Come In Twos

by mruiz



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 3
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drugs, Eating Disorders (Mentioned), F/M, M/M, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Wanted!AU, pirates are terrible assassins let me tell you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-02 05:21:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4047703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mruiz/pseuds/mruiz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanted!AU<br/>Jason is your average guy with an average life: stressing job, distant girlfriend, piece-of-shit friend and anxiety pills. When he and his family are put in danger, Jason crosses paths with a certain scarred man with a mohawk and a thing for defining insanity, changing their lives forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Every Day Is Exactly The Same

**Author's Note:**

> Umm, hi! Since we don't get a lot of FC3 fanfics, I decided to try my hand at writing fanfiction. This is my first fanfic, and I'm not used to writing in English, so please forgive me for gross grammar mistakes and fucking up characters. Constructive criticism, writing tips and any other comments are welcome!

The smell of deep fried food makes me feel sick while I watch the team gather around a makeshift table, covered in pastries and other kinds of junk food distributed around a camera shaped cake.

The "Happy Birthday!" banners, birthday hats and other party deco only make the atmosphere more depressing, that is, to me, 'cause the rest of the staff that consists of a group of anorexic models, my creepy boss Buck and other two assistants laugh out loud and talk excitedly around the table.

The tall brunette eats hot dog after hot dog, while the redhead is in her third piece of cake and I'm sure I'll be cleaning up vomit very soon. I realize I'm probably staring, because my boss is looking pointedly at me, and I guess it's time to get back to work.

My name's Jason, I work as a photographic assistant and share a tiny apartment with my girlfriend, Liza, whom I barely see, since I spend the entire day working my ass off at the studio running after equipment, setting up equipment, cleaning equipment, cleaning the boss's office, following his stupid orders and taking care of models.

Photographic assistant ? Fuck that, instead of actually helping in the photoshoots , I spend the day cleaning up vomit from sick people paid to maintain an absurd beauty standard.

I'm more like a janitor around here.

This is my job. I should be thankful for having one, since I never do things quick enough according to Buck, who delays his own work so he can remind me how useless and slow I am.

While I organize the studio, I notice that Mark, the photoshop guy and my "best friend", skipped work again due to a dentist appointment.

I wonder how many dentist appointments can someone have in a month.

Anyway, our "best friendship" consists of me smoothing things over with Buck for him, paying for his lunch since he seems to conveniently forget his wallet at the studio, and him flirting with my girlfriend.

Wanna know what's the saddest thing ?

I don't care.

I don't care about my stressful job, about my piece of shit boss, about my shitty best friend, about my distant relationship.

I haven't cared in a long time.

The only thing I care about is the fact that I don't care.

Later  when my working hours are done, the streetlights are on and the sky is dark, which makes the heat of the day more bearable, one of the consequences of living on a tropical island.

Ironically the weather is often cloudy due to the pollution caused by industries that, along with the skyscrapers, metro lines and chaotic traffic,  create the concrete jungle that is the South Island. I open my satchel and search inside it until I find a grocery list, my ugly handwriting in blue next to Liza's neat one in black.  

When I see my phone deep inside the bag, my brother Riley comes to my mind. How is he ? Since I couldn't attend his pilot license ceremony because I was working we haven't talked much.

Actually, I haven't talked much to any of my friends considering I can't go out with them to dance, drink or simply hang out at Ollie's place playing videogames and eating pizza cause I'm always tired and stressed.

That's me, Jason Brody: assistant, boyfriend,  brother and friend of the year.

The walk to the grocery store doesn't take longer than 10 minutes, and soon I'm standing in cereal aisle trying to decide which one I should take.  

At the end of the aisle there's a woman with a little boy, who throws himself on the floor while crying because he wants a cereal that comes with a toy while the mother closes her eyes and takes a deep breath trying to be patient, an old lady arguing about the price of oatmeal with an employee, and a man with a buzzcut wearing a military jacket analyzes the back of a cereal box. His arms catch my eyes.

Tribal tattoos. Rakyat.

That's weird. Only a few natives usually come to the South Island, preferring to isolate themselves on the North Island.

I quickly avert my eyes when he looks up from the box, and I end up deciding on taking the Frosted Flakes. After picking up the stuff I needed from the hygiene and dairy aisles, I stop at the short checkout queue made of tired people coming back from work who only want to go home and sleep, like me.  

It's my turn. I lean against the checkout counter, checking my emails on my phone while the cashier scans my items. The sound of glass breaking makes me turn to look at its direction, where an embarrassed woman accidentally dropped a jar of pickles. When I turn back, I almost drop my phone.

There's a guy leaning against my counter, observing me so close that I wonder how the hell I didn't notice his presence.

"Uh, sorry." I say, while looking at any other direction and drumming my fingers against the metal surface.

"You apologize too much, hermano."

He has a mohawk, a scar that goes from his eyebrow to the back of his head and wears a red vest, cargo pants, black boots and a holster. But what makes me more nervous isn't the fact that he's armed.

It's his eyes, so dark that I can't even see the pupils, fixated on me.

"Well, sorry about that." I reply with certain irritation. Who is this guy ?

"Your brothers were kidnapped last night, when they were leaving a club in Gaztown."

I almost drop my phone again. "...W-what ?"

That's impossible, If they had been kidnapped I would have known by now... right ?

He keeps looking at me with a small grin like he just made a comment about the weather, instead of telling me about my brothers being in danger.

I clench my fists. "Look, if this is some kind of joke-"

"The man who kidnapped them is behind you."

He said and pulled a pistol from his holster, firing one shot before grabbing me and throwing us both on ground, using the counter as cover.

Around us, all hell broke loose.

People screamed and ran abandoning grocery bags, some calling for the police, others crying.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

Deep breaths, Jason.

Mohawk dude crouched beside me and snapped his fingers in front of my face.

"Hey! Hermano, stay with me! "

I can barely hear my own thoughts. Bullets hit our cover. The sound of shooting seems to have started outside too.

I can't breathe.

I think I'm gonna throw up.

When he turns to shoot back, I get up and run.

That was the most brave, or most stupid, decision of my life.

I hear a loud "FUCK!" followed by more gunshots. I run through the cereal aisle trying to get to the exit without being shot.  As soon as the aisle ends, I'm facing a huge wall shelf filled with barbecue supplies and grills of different kinds: electric, gas and charcoal. 

To my left, at the end of the corridor, there's the exit. To my right is the Rakyat man I saw earlier.

He has a gun on his hand.

Oh, shit.

He doesn't shoot me, but starts in my direction.

A single shot rings out and a gas canister explodes, creating a fire column in the middle of the corridor and effectively separating us.

I'm pretty sure I'm temporarily deaf in my right ear, and my heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest, but I don't stop running until crossing the exit.  

Outside there's another shootout in the middle of the parking lot: on one side men taking cover behind red jeeps, on the other men with tribal tattoos behind blue jeeps, while around them desperate people try to get away by car or on foot.

I run as fast as I can, trying to get away from the chaos.  When I'm about 200 meters away, running in middle of the street, I hear a car approaching fast. The car speeds past, making a ninety degree turn in front of me and forcing me to stop. The smell of burning rubber from the tires fills the air, when the driver's door opens and I'm pulled inside, hitting my head in the process.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU FUCK! YOU FUCKING LOCO, AMIGO ?"

Oh no.

Mohawk guy again.

He speaks fast in Spanish while pushing me over to the passenger's seat and I have no idea of what he is saying, but I'm pretty sure he isn't complimenting me.

"You think running away like a little pussy is funny, huh ? Wanna see you try now, amigo." He slammed the door shut and moved the car back before speeding off down the street, making me bump my head against the headrest. Shit, my head hurts. I touch the place where I hit my head and let out a hiss of pain.

"Thought you could run ? Spotted you like a fucking hunter, like, uh, the huntsman going after Snow White, ya know ?" He begins to laugh.

What the fuck ?  

This guy is fucking crazy.

"It's okay hermano, I'm gonna chill, I'm gonna relax." He continues laughing, but more quietly now.

Considering the speed at which he's driving, I'm glad I have my health insurance.

A few minutes of high speed, me crying and begging God to let me live and almost four crashes later, he starts to slow down, even stopping at a red light (which surprises me), when I see three red jeeps approaching through the rear view. I probably started trembling, since Mr. Need for Speed turns to me and says:

"Chill out, they're my guys." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and leaned back against the seat, rubbing my eyes.

After a few moments I hear the soft sound of a lighter being used, and soon the smell of weed fills my nostrils. He turns the radio on, low electronic music playing.

Now that imminent danger has passed, I can feel the adrenaline starting to fade and it gets harder to keep my eyes open. I try to fight the exhaustion, cause sleeping in a strange car with an armed man that I don't know is not one of the best ideas.

But the combination of weed, pain and stress is too much for me, luring me into closing my eyes and welcoming the darkness.


	2. Enter Sandman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Panic Attacks and Blood are part of this chapter.
> 
> Hello guys, thank you all for the kind comments on this story! Sorry it's been so long, I'll try to update this story more regularly.  
> In this chapter I wrote a character experiencing a panic attack, and I was really hard for me since I never experienced one. I did my research and tried to base myself on what people who experienced it told me. I tried my best, but I have limited experience in writing so this scene isn't very good. The things I got wrong you guys are more than welcome to point it out for me, and if I got it all wrong then I apologize in advance to anyone who suffers with panic attacks. Please let me know what you think!

 

_"Tuck you in, warm within_  
_Keep you free from sin..."_

 

I wake up sitting upright, running my right hand through my hair and exhaling profoundly. It's still dark, and the raindrops falling against the windows are the only sound in the darkened apartment. Fearing that I had disturbed my girlfriend's sleep I let my hand fall and place it on the other side of the bed, which is unoccupied.

Right, Liza said she would probably spend the night at her mother's house.

Realizing that I am alone, I let the sound of rain and the absence of city sounds relax me. In the middle of the night the city sleeps and the silence is so deep that the rest of the world seems to not exist, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I probably ate a lot before bed, and that may have caused the crazy dream I had.

If I had been at Ollie's I would blame the smell of weed.

A shootout in a grocery store, almost being incinerated by a gas canister and a car ride with an insane man. Shit, my imagination got really wild with this one. Grant and Riley being kidnapped. They will probably laugh at my face when I tell them. I shook my head and chuckle at myself, reaching at the bedside table to grab my cellphone.

I grab something else instead, and quickly turned my head in surprise. In my hand there's an apple I don't remember bringing with me to the bedroom. I frown, trying to figure out why the hell did I bring it with me, maybe it's a midnight snack ?

Anyway, turns out my phone isn't at the table, but a small note is. I snatch the note from the table and turn the tablelamp on. Written in a messy scrawl, the message is:

"Sleep tight, Snow White."

It wasn't a dream. It was real.

(The air leaves my lungs.)

I almost died, thrice.

(My head starts to feel light.)

Grant and Riley are gone.

(Shit, I can't breathe.)

Someone is after me.

(My heart is beating too fast.)

Someone wants me dead.

Dead.

I'm dying.

Tears run down my face while I struggle to breathe. _My throat is closed-I'm sure it is. That odd feeling in my chest, like my heart is being squeezed and it's beating so hard- I'm dying- I knew there was something wrong with me should've made more exams_ \- _I need my meds- It's all my fault I wasn't there for them now they're gone just like dad- I'm a terrible brother- A terrible son- It should have been me not him- I'm a failure- Inside the wardrobe inside the socks drawer-_

Across the room, right next to the bathroom door is the wardrobe.

I'm not going to make it.

_(When did you ever make it ?)_

I'll die before I'm even halfway there.

_(Good riddance.)_

Mom's going to lose all her sons.

_(You should already be dead, Jason.)_

I scramble from the bed and end up on the floor. Then I'm fumbling with the wardrobe, desesperately attemping to reach my medicine. Next there's a small orange bottle in my hands. I swallow half a pill dry, feeling it go down slowly in my throat.

I curl up and lay there on the cold wooden floor, sobbing. Sometime later (minutes or hours, I don't know) I got up slowly, fearing I might get dizzy. The rain has significantly diminished, and the sky is slowing turning pink, with dawn approaching. Picking up the orange bottle from the floor, I carefully wrap it again in a white plastic bag and put it back inside the open drawer, meticulousy hiding it under a bunch of pairs of my socks. After taking care of that I enter the small bathroom, stripping off my underwear and walking inside the shower stall. 

* * *

Closing the door behind me, I walk down the concrete stairs of my apartment building. It's around 8 AM, and the streets are already filled with people going to work or to school. The streets are wet from the early rain and the skies are grey, still heavy with a torrent that will come down later. My thoughts started to get clearer while I was in the shower, and I realized that no one had contacted me about the kidnapping. What the hell is wrong with me ? Trusting the words of a lunatic I never saw before...

He saved my life, though.

Anyway, I should get the facts straight before losing my shit. I need to find out what's happening, before the guilt about drifting away from my family becomes too much.

After finishing my shower and getting dressed, I called both Riley's and Grant's cellphones using the landline phone, since my cellphone and other belongings had been lost in last night's chaos. Straight to voicemail, both times.

Shit, maybe they had turned off the phones before going to bed ? But that's way too much of a coincidence. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I checked the voicemail and I only had two messages from credit card companies and one from my landlord. This is really weird. That guy from last night said they're, supposedly, taken the night before yesterday.

Surely someone would have gone to the police already, right ?

If anything had happened, my mother would have called me...

Shit, didn't she mention something about leaving Rook for a while for some important meetings she had back at the States last time she called ? I didn't pay too much attention to that 'cause it's nothing out of ordinary for her life, a politician's life.

If she's not in the islands, then she wouldn't know.

The other question is, then why didn't my friends notify me ?

Riley shares an apartment with Ollie, Keith and Vincent. Grant lives together with his girlfriend, Daisy.

I doubted very much that Riley's roomates would be of any help. The only time Ollie isn't high is when he's asleep, Keith's a typical fratboy and Vincent... well, I didn't spend much time with him to know who he is.

My safest bet is Daisy but again, if she didn't contact me before, then she probably isn't aware of what happened. Shit, this is really weird. I mean, if the person who lives with you goes out one night and doesn't come back, you go to the police and ask your friends and family if they know the person's wherebouts, right ? I finally settled on leaving Daisy a message, innocently asking about Grant.

"Uh, hey Daisy! It's Jason, how are you ? Sooo, I tried calling Grant but had no sucess, did he change his number or something ? Umm, Liza asked me to call him about that double date thing we talked about... Anyway, uh, please call me back when you can, alright ? Bye!"

I facepalmed myself after getting off the phone. _Jesus Christ, could I have been anymore obvious ?_ Sure, Daisy and I are friends but not that close, why the fuck would I leave her a message about a double date at 6 AM ?

Well, that's water under the bridge now.

So far I know no one of our social circle knows what happened and the police hasn't been alerted.

The only person who knows is him. I need to find him.

Turns out I had no idea how to start.

He's not ordinary looking by any means. But that's not very helpful when I know nothing about him, not even his name.

I'm screwed.

I ate some toast for breakfast while watching the news, paying close attention to anything related to kidnappings. After tidying up the apartment a little, I finished getting ready for work.

I stop at newsstand nearby on my way to the subway, going straight to the newspapers. Almost all of them have the same cover and title: "Shootout At Grocery Store: Are Gang Wars back ?" and images from security cameras. To my surprise, there are three police sketches: one of myself, one of mowahk dude and another one of the Rakyat man.

Well, shit.

I take one of the newspapers, and carefully keep my head down while paying for it. I leave the newsstand with an increasing paranoia, avoiding to look at other people's face and keeping my head down. I look over my shoulder, and a flash of red catches my eye.

There's a man wearing a red bandana and glasses walking in the same direction as me.

Maybe I'm being way too much paranoid, but with these last events, I can never be too careful, right ? Didn't he and his buddies wear red last night ? I can't really remember.

I walk past the subway station and cross the street, taking the longer route to my job. After about five minutes, I notice the man is still behind me. If he's one of the guys from last night, this is my chance to find out who my savior is. If he isn't then I'll probably be taken as well, or killed.

I quickly turn into an alley to my right, and push the door open to the first building that I find. Inside, there are numbered doors, stairs that probably lead to the second floor apartments, a desk with some papers, a small radio, a convex mirror and a chair. The hallway is empty so I hide behind a wall a few steps from the door, from here I can see the door through the mirror. Unslinging my backpack from my shoulder, I reach inside it searching for my umbrella, since it's the closest thing I have for a weapon to defend myself. I leave the backpack on the floor, and hold the umbrella tighly against my chest.

The door opens, and the man who is following me enters.

Holding my breath, I tighten my grip around my makeshift weapon.

When he's just around the corner I step away from my hiding spot and I smash the umbrella's handle right in the middle of his face. He falls to the floor screaming in pain, and his hands fly to his nose.

The fall made his loose t-shirt end up exposing the waist of his jeans, and the pistol tucked under his belt. Before he recovered, I quickly grabbed the pistol and pointed at him with trembling hands.

He started cursing me while trying to slowly sit up.

"Why are you following me ?" I try to hide how nervous I am, but my voice wavers at end. I take a deep breath, attemping to steady my trembling hands.

"You son of a bitch! I'll fucking kill you! "

"ANSWER ME!" The hysterical edge in my voice makes me turn the pistol's safety off. I have almost zero experience with guns , but having a brother who has a lot of experience comes in handy. I don't want to shoot the stalker, only threaten him into talking.

He raises his hands in a peace gesture. There's a lot of blood in his nose and hands. Shit, I probably broke his nose.

"Hey man calm down, I'm just following orders okay ?"

"Orders from who ?"

He stays quiet, eyes going to the pistol then to my face.

Never taking my eyes from him, I go to my backpack and search for the newspaper from earlier. After finding it, I slowly raise it in front of him.

His eyes go wide. "Holy shit, boss won't be happy when he finds out the cops are looking for him."

"Who's your boss ?"

"That's Vaas. Look man, I was only following his orders, okay ? He said 'Keep an eye on Snow White and watch out for those Rakyat fuckers' and that's what I was doing." He replies defensively, while still keeping his hands up.

Snow White ? What the fuck ?

"What do you know about the kidnapping ?"

"I swear I don't know anything, just... please don't shoot me, alright ?"

Slowing lowering the gun, I command him. "Take me to Vaas."

 

_"Take my hand_  
_We're off to never-never land..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who undressed Jason and put him in bed ? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and again, I'm open to suggestions, constructive criticism and tips so please let me know what you think!


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